She’d like to blame her foolishness on the irresistibleness of his golden honey scent, but that only made it worse. Like she was a silly girl instead of a Jingen City Watch Officer.
They arrived at the moat around the Seven Suns Palace before Marielle realized it. Carnelian kicked Marielle’s boots, clearing her throat dramatically. Dragon’s spit, she must be agitated. Marielle’s nose was recovered enough that she could smell Carnelian’s mood. Dusty mustard and lime poured off her in waves so strong that Marielle was having trouble catching the scent of anything else.
By the time Marielle looked up, she felt her own breath catching. It wasn’t just the Commander of the Watch waiting there. And it wasn’t just Captain Ironarm with him, either. Standing with them was a man who could only be the fabled Lord Mythos.
She could smell the faint residue of magic on him now that she was concentrating. He hadn’t used it in a long time, and yet even this tiny residue was enough to rivet her every sense on him, trying to catch even a whiff of the heady turquoise and gold that still lingered faintly on his body. It smelled of vanilla and lilac.
Marielle had made the mistake of thinking that ‘Lord Mythos’ was his name for most of her life. It wasn’t until she was in the Academy that she realized it was a title. A role. The Lord Mythos was the keeper of the city’s myths and laws and her ultimate authority.
And this Lord Mythos was young.
He was surrounded by uniformed personal guards – six of them this morning. But there was no mistaking which one he was. Tall and unnaturally pale, with dark hair curving around his perfectly sculpted face and clean-shaven jaw, he was like a raven among jays.
Marielle – if she had pictured him at all – would have pictured him in decadent clothing and rich jewelry. It was surprising to realize that his black brocade coat was unadorned except for black embroidery on the high collar and around the cuffs. A pair of metal bracers graced his forearms, but even these were a dull steel only highlighted by gilding, not the gleaming ornaments she would have expected. His boots, trousers, and the short cape tied over one shoulder and under the other were as simply cut as a guards’ uniform, though on him they looked sharp enough to cut throats.
He studied them through narrow eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “These are valiant Watch Officers who found our intruder?”
Even though his words were quiet, Captain Ironarm straightened with pride and the Commander of the Watch looked pleased. It was something about the tone. As if he could say a flower was pretty and then it would be. As if he could call the same flower a disgrace and it would immediately wilt. His words were power.
“As you say, Lord Mythos,” the Captain of the Guard said. “Corporal Carnelian Fishnetter and her Scenter, Marielle Valenspear.”
Carnelian bowed deeply, and at the tug of her hand on Marielle’s sleeve, Marielle remembered to do the same. Thank goodness for sensible Carnelian. She could meet one of the dragons of legend and she’d never look for a second like that was a strange thing. But then, she didn’t have magic tickling the inside of her nose like the sweetest embrace of a lover.
Lord Mythos took a step forward, his black eyes studying them with care. His guards shifted uncomfortably.
“I am Etienne Velendark. Your Lord Mythos. I commend you for fulfilling your duty this past night.” He stepped forward again, standing right in front of Carnelian. “Rise.”
She straightened. She didn’t even look nervous. Her head was held high, but it was possible that her usual belligerent stance was more demure.
“My thanks,” he said, placing a small purse in her hand. “And the thanks of our city. Continue to serve, and your name will be known in Jingen.”
Carnelian flushed. That was high praise. It would have been a powerful promise from a Landhold, never mind the Lord Mythos.
But Marielle was confused. Why was he congratulating them? The infiltrator had gotten clean away.
Lord Mythos stepped in front of Marielle. The faint scent of his magic making her want to lean in to catch just a little more.
“Rise.”
She stood. Surprisingly, the Lord Mythos was not much taller than her. He was whip-lean and moved like a man used to physical activity, not like one who spent his time governing.
He tilted his head, pursing his lips at her expression and she felt her cheeks grow hot. Had he noticed her regarding him as a man and not the myth he was meant to represent? It was hard to see that he was only a bare handful of years older than her without thinking of the name he’d given. Etienne. Etienne Velendark. It was a name that caressed the tongue.
“You are the Scenter? Walk with me.”
Marielle’s eyes grew wide at the request, but the hardening of Captain Ironarm’s features when she glanced in her direction told her that even the smallest reluctance would be met with force. Perhaps he still meant to punish her for her failure.
Carefully, with as much self-control as she could muster, Marielle joined the Lord Mythos, walking with him as he led her along the moat, through the quiet morning of the Government District. Dawn burned the mist off the moat, stinking to Marielle of stale water and organic growth, but it was likely a pretty sight to a non-Scenter.
She noticed there was no offer of a purse for her.
“Your eyes are unique,” he said as they walked. “You are of Landhold blood?”
Marielle stumbled, recovering quickly as the Lord Mythos offered a solicitous hand to steady her.
“My apologies, Lord Mythos. Your question startled me.”
Her face was so hot it must be burning bright enough for Captain Ironarm to see from behind them. And her nose – her nose filled with his scent until she thought she’d have to pull up her scarf to make herself stop drawing it in ... in ... in.
“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow with a faint smile, but there was an edge of violence under it. The last time Marielle had seen that was when Carnelian lipped off to a guardsman from the Artificer District Watch House. He’d said ‘Oh?’ just like that and a moment later Carnelian had been on the ground nursing a bleeding nose and a chipped ego.
“I am not of Landhold blood, Lord Mythos.”
“Then who were your parents? Do they live still?”
Marielle nearly choked. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of Variena. Of course not. She visited. Made sure she was well. They both found it awkward.
“I was raised by the Scenter Guild as a foundling.” Best to play it safe with the answer.
“But you know who you were born to.” His words were so certain. As if he already knew the answer. Did he? “And you will tell me.”
Had Marielle thought her cheeks were hot before? They burned so hotly now that surely they would be ash soon. She hadn’t been raised from birth by the Scenters, though it was convenient to pretend she was.
“I was born to Variena, a Lady of the Red Light in the Trade District.” Her words were not as loud as she would have liked. Not as bold. And she hated his knowing smile.
“And no idea of the father, I shall assume.” His smile was cold. But his eyes looked satisfied. What did he have to be satisfied with? And why did it make Marielle suddenly want to look over her shoulder to be sure that Captain Ironarm was still watching? “And the man you chased last night. Could you find him if you scented him again?”
“I hope so, Lord Mythos.” At least he was back to business. She could breathe again. She gasped in the overpoweringly sweet scent of his magic residue.
“You will watch for him. The slightest whiff of him and you will have your colleagues haul him in. Do you know how important Summernight is to Jingen?”
The way he said, ‘Summernight’ sent thrills up her spine. Awe and devotion mixed in his voice. It made her want to know whatever secret he did that made Summernight so magical. And the way he leaned in close to speak to her, the way he was breathless as he spoke, left her hanging on each breath, watching the perfect curve of his lips for each new word to fall.
“Yes.”
“Tell me why, Marielle.” And now it was her name that he was caressing with those perfect lips.
She caught her breath just in time. “Summernight is the summer festival when we remember the sleeping dragon on which our city is built. The legend says that he is bound by magic ancient and primitive – a magic now lost. Every summer, a sacrifice must be made to please the ancient magic and renew the bond.”
“And if ever we fail?” When had he drawn so close? He smelled of mandarin oranges and rusty iron under that heady scent of magic.
“If we fail,” she said, shaping her lips just as his had shaped his when he said the words, “the magic spell will break, and the dragons of the five cities will be let loose on the earth to finally embrace their revenge.”
“Yes,” he breathed and the way he said it set all her hair on end.
“But of course,” Marielle said with a nervous laugh. “None of it is really true. It’s part of our civic duty to remind us that in life sacrifices must be made. And it’s part of the religions to remind us that the gods demand blood. But it’s symbolic. There were never really dragons. And they won’t come back if they aren’t appeased.”
“Do you believe so?” He said it slowly, drawing out every word. His gaze was locked onto hers. She couldn’t have looked away if she tried. And in the depths of his eyes was a look like a man bound to a pole ready for the first lash to strike.
“Yes?” How could she be sure? How could anyone? And yet no one had ever seen a god or a dragon. And there were many hundreds of rituals performed in the city for the religions every day. What made this one any more real than any of those?
“Interesting.” He pulled back to a comfortable distance and his eyes closed and then opened again and when they opened there was nothing there except for pure professionalism. “I will remember you, Marielle of the Scenters. And I will watch with interest as you find this infiltrator. But find him quickly. Nothing and no one must stop us from celebrating Summernight this year. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He spun, his short cape whipping up with the speed of his turn and flashing a shining satin lining at her.
And then he was striding back to his guards, issuing curt orders and Marielle was trying to make her knees lock so they would stop trembling like dried leaves in the autumn winds. The turquoise and gold-flecked lilac scent of magic left the air around her, leaving everything else dull in comparison.
10: Now or Never
Tamerlan
“Honor the ancestors!” the man said, whirling by in the dusty streets. He was one of the few people not already in costume as the day drew to another close. One lonely Smudger, worshiping as his religion demanded while the rest of the city burst into riotous celebration as the second night of Summernight descended.
Dathan pushed past the wrinkled man, “No offense, but you look like an ancestor already!”
The man ignored him, but he shot Tamerlan a piercing look.
“Do you need wisdom? Do you lack guidance? Seek the spirits of the ancestors! Bathe in smoke with us tonight. Purify yourself. Honor the ancestors.”
Tamerlan held up his hands peaceably, trying to smile politely as Dathan pulled him past.
“As if we’d be doing that tonight!” his friend chuckled. “Oh, we missed you last night, Tam! Holden and Jez had a bet going that they could each find someone dressed as Lila Cherrylocks to kiss. It took most of the night, but Jez found one willing and Holden owes him a month’s wages!”
“A month!” Tamerlan repeated. He would have been laughing, too, if it had been a week ago. It was hard to pretend to find something so trivial charming right now. In the bottom of the basket he carried were the ingredients for the recipe. Every one of them. It had taken most of the day to sneak them one at a time from the vendors he visited for the Guild, but buried under the lavender he was delivering, were all the items on the list. Someone would notice they were gone – he was sure.
He hadn’t even had a good reason to go into Madame Chee’s shop for the orrisleaf. He’d had to pretend he was looking for something he knew she didn’t have on hand to get her to leave the counter long enough to steal it. And that was a risk. Madame Chee was sure to notice. And she was sure to think it was him. He should have paid. But she’d definitely know it was him, then. And what excuse could he give for wanting his own herbs when they had nothing to do with guild business?
“You need to cheer up. Who are you dressing as tonight?” Dathan pressed.
“Maybe I’ll dress as Lila Cherrylocks just to make Holden and Jez choke,” Tamerlan said with a smile. Keep up the pretense. Don’t let anyone see what’s under the surface. There was already enough reason for the Watch to suspect him, to find him, to arrest him before he even had a chance to save her.
He peered after the man carrying the smoking brazier and shouting warnings to turn to the ancestors. Was he a watchman undercover? Could he be watching them now, comparing Tamerlan to the description the Scenter would have given her fellow officers?
He forced a laugh, joining Dathan’s snorted chuckles. Nothing to see here. No reason to suspect anything.
They hurried back to The Copper Tincture, passing a winking King Abelmeyer with his one good eye. A spy, perhaps? Or only a man preparing for the night’s celebrations?
“You’re coming to Master Juggernaut’s tonight, aren’t you?” Dathan asked.
“Juggernaut?” Tamerlan’s eyes snapped back from red eyepatch strung across the scarred face of the costumed King. Perhaps that was how he would dress tonight. Something brazen and bold. No one would expect him to be hiding behind that, would they?
“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard! Every apprentice and most of the masters will be there. The Landholds throw a scavenger hunt through the city every year on the second night of Summernight. You know this, Tamerlan!”
“Sure,” he agreed.
“And every year we form teams to try to win the prize. It’s not just gold this year. It’s access. If we win, we join the Landholds at their Legend Ball in the Seven Suns Palace.”
Tamerlan blinked. He’d forgotten all about that. If he was in the palace, he would be one more step closer to the tower.
“The whole city will be after the prize this year. Between the money and the contracts for your guild, a year of credit in the Trade District, and a chance for a real Landhold Ball thrown by Lord Mythos? You could set yourself up for life! Every Guild in the city will be fighting for it, Tam. Not just guilds, either. I heard the Librarians will have a team. Even the Watch is rumored to have a team!”
“The Watch?”
But how could he search for scavenger items and try this recipe at the same time? He’d have to choose. If this worked – if it was real magic like he hoped it was – then he didn’t need special access to the palace.
“Tell me you’re coming, Tamerlan! You’re good at puzzles – when you’re paying attention.”
“Sure, Dathan. I just need to get into costume first. I’ll meet you at Master Juggernaut’s.”
Dathan punched his arm. “Good! We’re winning that one, Tam. And then you and I are going to swagger around a Landhold Ball and dance with girls so rich they bleed gold and so pretty you’d die for a single glance from them.”
“I’m not ready to die,” Tamerlan said. But tonight he might die. If the magic didn’t work, he still needed to rescue Amaryllis somehow and the only other option would be to storm the tower gates.
“You take these things way too seriously! Besides, there’s no reason for anyone to fear. The Watch have doubled their patrols tonight. The whole city will be out on the hunt tonight!”
Tamerlan’s mind was so focused on what was coming next that the return back to The Copper Tincture and dropping off the delivery of lavender flew by, and he found himself in his room. He shut his door behind him, the basket with his supplies in the bottom still clutched to his chest as he leaned his forehead against the door and caught his breath.
If this worked – if this magic really came when called, then he wouldn’t go running off like a fool tonight. Not with the whole City Watch on alert. Not with patrols doubled. He’d practice somewhere safe. He’d make sure he had the skills this time before he launched himself on the palace.
But would it work?
With shaking hands, he pulled the ingredients out of the basket, placing them on the shelves of his wardrobe. He had more than twice what he needed if he’d calculated correctly. Some to test. More to use when he needed it if the test worked. He had a feeling about this recipe. A feeling of how it should go as if he were making a soup he’d eaten a thousand times but never made. Maybe it was in his blood or in the memories passed down from his ancestors. Maybe it was just a trick of his mind.
He didn’t need to panic. He didn’t need to run around like a boy with a half-hatched plan like last night. He needed to take deep breaths and do this carefully. One step at a time.
He stripped out of his guild uniform and down to his smallclothes. First things first. No need to ruin his uniform if the first experiment didn’t work.
His door crashed open and he jumped, dropping the uniform on the floor.
Dathan strode into the room, his steps rolling as he displayed his Deathless Pirate costume, a pile of cloth in his arms. “Great, isn’t it? Where’s yours?”
He pushed past Tamerlan, looking into the wardrobe. Tamerlan held his breath. If Dathan saw ...
He looked around the room. There were no weapons. No rope. If his friend saw the illicit haul, he had no way to stop him from reporting what he’d seen. Could he even stop Dathan if he wanted to? Tamerlan had never hit another person in his life. He didn’t want to start with Dathan.
“There’s nothing in here!” Dathan spun around.
Tamerlan held his breath.
“You know you can’t go as naked-boy, right?” Dathan reached out with his pirate hook and jabbed Tamerlan’s ribs. Tamerlan tried not to look too relieved as he laughed.
Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series Page 7